


Blackout Freakout

by star_named_andy



Series: Paws-itivity [9]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Animal Transformation, BardXThranduil, Barduil - Freeform, Curses, Guns, M/M, Magic, cat!Bard, thranduilxbard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7005622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_named_andy/pseuds/star_named_andy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trio follows a lead that they think will help unravel Bard's mystery, but things take a turn for the worst - especially when some sketchy characters show up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackout Freakout

**Author's Note:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, or any of its characters or content.)

Their search for answers had only just begun and things were already looking bleak from Thranduil’s point of view. There they were, sitting in traffic in the middle of a bustling metropolis with no idea of where to be.

Thranduil visited this city in particular on business a few times, but he was in no way familiar with it. He favored his reclusive home and detested being in cities for too long, so it was no wonder he didn’t recall liking this place very much, with all of its discombobulation and unpleasant features: taxis shoving and beeping at each other, the permeating stench of smog that you could taste on your tongue, crowds covering every inch of every block. And that was in the _good_ part of the city, or what was considered the “safe” and “clean” area. What corners of the city they’d find themselves in was uncertain – Thranduil would steer them away from the darkest and nastiest depths of it if possible. Something in the back of his head kept reminding his stomach that knowing what he did of Bard’s situation, they could very well land themselves somewhere treacherous.

He sighed, remembering what Gandalf told him. Bard traveled in bad circles before.

Perhaps they hadn’t planned enough. Maybe they should just go back home and try another time.

“OH!” Bard exclaimed and both Thranduil and Legolas’ heads snapped in his direction. Bard was pressed up against the passenger door and window, his breath leaving traces on the glass as he beat on it excitedly. “That van, I know it! I know it, I’m sure of it!”

“Where?!” Legolas shouted and launched himself up front between the two, startling Thranduil.

“Legolas, seatbelt!” the elder blonde reprimanded, but his words were lost in the commotion.                                                                     

“The dark green with the fancy writing on the side!” Bard said pointing frantically on his window.

“I see it – Crest Pointe Animal Center! Dad-”

“I know, but I can’t get over there just yet.” Thranduil cut in. “We’re all still at a stand-still in traffic and I don’t think I can cross lanes to get to the van in time, but as long as we have the name of the center we can find it.”

“Right. I’ll check the map.”

“Bard,” Thranduil said, drawing the brunette’s attention to him. Bard’s expression was painted stunned and his eyes glistened with both wonder and worry. Those golden irises were always so versatile, so entrancing. He raised an eyebrow at Thranduil, prompting him to continue his thought. “What do you remember about the van?”

“I’ve seen a van like that one before, identical. I’ve ridden in one before, and with other people…I don’t remember any details about who I was with or why or anything.....” He scrunched his face in thought, his features soon becoming fixed with frustration. He heaved gravel sigh.  “I can’t see it in my head, it’s just not there. I don’t know. I only remember the image of the van.”

“That’s something, and something is far better than nothing. Did you ever stay at the center?”

“Center?”

“Yes, the van is an animal center van. Crest Pointe Animal Center.”

“Uh......I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve heard that name before, but I could be wrong. My mind isn’t very reliable. ” Bard answered, and Thranduil spied the vehicle in question across the way.

“A green van with gold writing on the side could be fairly common.”

“It’s a shot in the dark, but it’s as good a start as any.” Legolas chimed in. “But there is a slight problem.”

“What is it?”

“I can’t find the center on the printed map of city. I’ll look it up on my phone’s navigation system instead.”

“Is an animal center like Gandalf’s place?” Bard asked.

“It’s more like an animal hospital. Does that clear anything up for you?”

“Not at all. The only doctor I remember taking care of me was Radagast.”

“It’s very likely that you were there at some point. Maybe when you see it, it’ll stir some memories.”

“Yeah, maybe…”

“Slight problem again,” Legolas spoke up.

“What is it?” Thranduil asked.

“It’s not coming up on my GPS or on the internet anywhere – not a location near us, anyway. The closest center with that name isn’t even in this state.”

“We have to follow the van!” Bard insisted with sharp urgency.

“We can try.”

Once the vehicles packed side by side finally started crawling along the pavement, Thranduil began attempting to squeeze his way over to their target. Crossing one lane was difficult enough, and with much rage swelling up in his chest and burning his cheeks, he weaseled over two more. He finally let his breath out as they reached the same lane as the van and the nasty looks, horn blowing, and expletive cursing (from both him and other drivers) all came to an end.

He did take some amusement in Legolas’ surprise that Thranduil had managed to not rip the steering wheel from its socket; Thranduil was used to biting his tongue at work for the sake of diplomacy and being in a great state of comfort and relaxation at home unbothered, meaning he didn’t have tolerance for stressors thrashed at him in the public world.

“This is why I despise cities.” He said. “The people can be absolutely abysmal. They don’t have any manners and are so quick to rage.”

“It’s a little overwhelming…so many people...” Bard replied quietly as his thumbs circled each other and he stared out the window.

“I’m going to slow down a little. We don’t want to ride their tail.”

“What are we going to do when we get there?” Legolas inquired, cuing Thranduil and Bard to look at each other at the exact same moment, one expecting an answer from the other. Bard’s mouth fell open and all that came out were stutters over “I”s and “um”s.

“We’ll see if he recognizes it when we get there.” Thranduil said. “Then we’ll go in asking about a lost cat. Do you have a picture of Bard in his animal form, Legolas?”

“I do.”

“We can show them a picture and if they’ve seen him before, they may be able to tell us something.”

“Sneaky, dad. I didn’t know you had it in you – what am I saying? You’re in big business.” the youngest snickered.

“We can’t exactly be straightforward about this. And hey, business requires cut throat skill sometimes. Do you think I would have won Oakenshield over by being _nice?_ ” Thranduil jested with a smirk.

“What’s Oakenshield?” Bard asked, rousing a laugh from Legolas.

“Someone you’ll never have the displeasure of meeting.” Thranduil answered.

“Mm.” Bard hummed.

No carrying on and insistent questioning followed about the details of who “Oakenshield” was. Bard’s energy had transformed so drastically that he was not acting himself…or the self Thranduil knew him to be. But just as he thought so, he realized he didn’t know Bard hardly at all. He knew his situation, his trait of flighty emotions, and some of his annoying quirks. He knew this odd being that had so suddenly come into his life brought him great distress as well as comfort, and that he was stranger, more beautiful, and more warm than all belief, but other than that…

 

The chase drew them away from the buzzing center of the city into its quieter outskirts. It was a daunting quiet cast over them that prickled the skin.

Thranduil didn’t let any foolish pride mask his instincts. Caution was necessary.

They drove past rows of drab, run-down apartment buildings in silence, all of them with bated breath as they followed the van on and on and the apartments grew sparser. Soon the sides of the street were nearly empty, all markers of city life gone. Only a few small homes and convenience stores existed there, along with…

“A  motel?” Legolas spoke up, quirking a brow as the van turn into the lot of a shabby looking motel. “And one without a sign. Alright, this is definitely weird.”

“This doesn’t look right.” Thranduil commented and pulled off to the side of the road.

“What are you doing?” Bard perked up.

“Taking a minute to assess what’s going on. We couldn’t find the animal center on the map or online, and now the van is stopped at a motel. None of it makes any sense.”

“We came all this way. We should at least check it out.” Legolas suggested.

“My intuition says otherwise.”

“We should take the chance while we have it. The worst that could happen is we leave with no new clues.”

Thranduil sighed at his son’s persistence and peered back at him.

“That’s definitely not the worst that could happen. Don’t be so hasty that you ignore vigilance. I never defy my intuition.”

“I know, but we’ve got to take some risks if we want to accomplish anything.”

“A quick look probably wouldn’t hurt.” Bard cut in with a docile shrug and Thranduil eyed him carefully. “Please, Thranduil.”

Thranduil melted and caved.

“Alright. _Quick_.”

He pulled back onto the road and slowly to the motel entrance, pulling in very hesitantly as he saw no vehicles at all resting there. He parked in the nearest spot.

“Both of you follow my lead and listen to what I tell you to do. Move quietly and only move when I say.”

 Legolas gave him a brief piercing look and Thranduil could sense his son thought he was being overprotective, but he didn’t care.

Once Bard was out of the passenger side, Thranduil ducked in and extracted something from the glovebox. He slipped it in his pocket unseen and then joined Legolas, Bard having wandered off toward the motel rooms.

“What did I just say?” he hissed at the brunette and flailed his arms. He grunted as Bard’s attention stayed away from him. “What is he doing?”

“Investigating on his own, so it seems.” Legolas replied.

“This place doesn’t look open.”

“You left the car on.”

“In case we need to get away fast. Maybe there’s a rear parking area. I’ll go check it out. Let’s check around for that van.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No. I’ll go ahead. You stay with Bard unless I signal you to do otherwise.”

“Dad-“

“No discussion.”

Legolas groaned, but obeyed, parting from his father. Thranduil strode swiftly to the end of the building, thumbing the gun in his pocket as he approached. He stopped at the corner and listened – _voices_. Small, audible, indecipherable.

He peeked around the bend. There were _two_ vans, the other of a different design than the green, and a crew to accompany each conversing. A simple scene, perhaps, but no. Thranduil could sense villainy in their conference.

These suspicious characters were useless in their search, he deemed, and they’d be better off uninvolved in whatever these people were scheming.

Just as he was about to retreat, there was a change. The assembly members each approached their vans and opened them up. From the foreign vehicle, two holed crates were unloaded and transferred to the men of the green van, crates all too familiar looking to Thranduil’s trained pet owner eye. Whether the crates were occupied or not he could not tell by sight or hearing, but by the exchange of money he guessed that they were.

Thranduil turned on his heel swifter than lightning strikes and sprinted toward the car. Fear buzzed through him as he saw Legolas trying to pry Bard’s limp body from the pavement. He pumped his legs faster and took a crash landing onto the ground once he was near. He lifted Bard right out of Legolas’ arms and shook him gently.

He looked frighteningly at peace, pale and unmoving.

“I don’t know what happened; he just started panicking, rambling a bunch of nonsense and saying his head hurt and he collapsed!” Legolas exclaimed.

“Doesn’t matter now. We need to get him into the car and go.”

Legolas ran off to the car and prepared the door.

Every inch of Thranduil’s body boiled with frantic fire. He fought hard to ignore the sweat pooling from his skin. He felt like he would melt right into the ground.

As long as he could get Bard in the car and get far away, he could rest, but not a moment before could be spared for even one morsel of weakness.

The distinct sound of engines rumbled behind, fueling more rage than dread in him. He glanced back and had his suspicions confirmed: the two vans had come up and halted behind them.

“Shit,” he mumbled and whispered a command to Legolas. “Get him in, then stay in the back and stay calm.”

“What are you going to do?” Legolas whispered back.

“What I always do – talk my way out of it.”

Legolas took over and ducked Bard’s body into the backseat, leaving the elder blonde to assess the situation behind them. He stood perfectly upright with his chin raised high, a proud animal establishing an intimidating aura to keep the predators at bay.

The passenger from the green van stepped out, squinting at him.

“Hello.” Thranduil greeted with a short wave.

“This motel is closed.” The passenger said, making it clear that they were not welcome.

“I see that now. We were just looking for a place to stretch out our legs after a long drive, that’s all.”

The passenger and the driver exchanged looks and the driver from the other van poked his head out his window.

“Who’s this guy?” he called, but remained unanswered as the men of the green van set their piercing sights back on Thranduil.

“Dunno,” the passenger answered. “Who are you?” he pressed at Thranduil.

“Just a traveler from up north.” Thranduil answered, his hand sunk in his pocket. “We didn’t mean to disturb you. We’ll be taking back off now, not to worry.”

“Shouldn’t be coming around these parts, just as a warning to you, especially looking like you’re up to something.”

“I didn’t know this was a bad part of the area. I’ll take your advice and go.”

“Hold on!” the first driver interrupted loudly and hopped out of the van.

His back was hunched and his scowl nasty as he slinked toward Thranduil at an alarming rate.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked, wagging his finger in Bard and Legolas’ direction. The gesture made Thranduil’s fists curl; how _dare_ this foul stranger point at them with his wretched, dirty hands.

“It must be the heat,” Thranduil sighed. He pulled at his collar, letting in some much needed air. “We’ll be going so we can get him the attention he needs.”

“I think I know him.”

“I don’t think so. We’ve never been here before.”

“No, I know him. I’m _certain_. Friend of a friend.” The man insisted, and bared yellowed teeth in his greasy grin. “I’d like to say hello.”

“He isn’t well.”

The skeevy man’s grin dissolved and his one eyebrow settled. Thranduil started away and the driver shrieked out in an earsplitting tone that made him freeze: “BARD!”

Thranduil whipped a gun from his pocket and spun around, pointing the barrel directly at the man’s head.  The stranger stumbled back, putting his hands up immediately.

“I’m through with this.” Thranduil said.

“Whoa, whoa, there’s no need for that!” he said with a nervous chuckle weaving through his words.

“You don’t speak that name or even think of it.”

Thranduil backed away to the car, the gun still pointed directly at the man’s head. Once inside, he swiftly transferred the gun to Legolas.

“Remember when I taught you to shoot?” he asked, revving the engine and jerking back out of the parking space.

“Yeah.” Legolas answered breathlessly, shock obvious in his features as he ogled at the weapon sitting in his palm.

“Good.”

Thranduil jerked the car around to face the road and peeled out of the lot, foot heavy like iron on the gas.

“Are you buckled?”

“Do you really expect me to use this?”

“If necessary, yes. Are you buckled?”

“Yeah, but-”

“If you can’t do it, then give the thing to me.” Thranduil spat and stretched his arm back. He held his palm open and waved his fingers, expecting the gun. “I’m not messing around, Legolas.”

“No, I’ve _got it_.” Legolas hurriedly snapped back.

Thranduil didn’t want to load his son with the heavy weight a gun carried, with the worry of if he had to use it or not and how it would make him feel, but what choice did he have?

“Are you buckled in?”

“Yeah. What happens if we get pulled over?”

“We won’t.”

“We could! You’re going twenty miles over the speed limit and getting faster!”

“ _Legolas_ ,”

“What if we _do_ get pulled over? What do you expect me to do? I’m holding a gun and have an unconscious guy in my lap!”

“I need you to try to be calm.”

“What happened back there? What did they say to make you pull a gun?”

“Later.”

“But why did you-?”

“ _Not now_.” Thranduil spoke sharply, his anger slipping through his gnashed teeth.

Legolas reluctantly went silent and his brows and lips were stuck in such a form that Thranduil knew he was heated with frustration. Even so, Legolas kept his eyes on the mirrors to ensure they weren’t being followed as Thranduil flew. The coast remained clear, but Thranduil didn’t stop speeding until they were far, far away.

 

The car was chugging at normal speed as they rolled into familiar territory.

Thranduil’s body was tense with fury. His rage had not simmered one bit. He’d been right, _dammit_ , he’d been _right_! He let himself be convinced into bringing Legolas and Bard into a dangerous situation despite his better judgement, putting their lives at risk. How could he be so utterly imprudent, he thought? He should have listened to himself. If anything had happened, what would he have done?

If anything bad ever happened, the right thing would be for him to slowly and excruciatingly shrivel up into nothing and disintegrate into oblivion, in his opinion. He could never possibly live with himself if either of them were harmed. The guilt and agony would be too unbearable, but perhaps that would be what he deserved in such a case.

Once they arrived home, they were met by Gandalf and Radagast. Knowing they couldn’t take Bard to the hospital and unsure of what else to do, Thranduil and Legolas agreed to call them. Gandalf immediately agreed to drop everything to come and rush over to meet them with Radagast.

Thranduil and Legolas maneuvered Bard out of the car and the elder blonde carried him inside. He laid him on the couch in the living room and stepped back so the elder men could assess him. He and Legolas hovered by as Radagast checked his vitals.

“He’s still not awake.” Legolas braved quietly. “I’m worried. He’s been unconscious too long.”

“How long?” Gandalf inquired.

“Over half an hour, at the least.”

“Did he hit his head when he fell?”

“I don’t see any visible marks here,” Radagast commented as he delicately combed through Bard’s thick hair.

“No, I caught him in time…what do you think is wrong with him?”

“You’re sure he didn’t hit his head?” Thranduil asked and received a glare in return.

“Positive – I just said that.” Legolas defended firmly.

“I’m only asking because that’s the only thing that I would think would knock him out for so long. We all ate before we left and I doubt he’s dehydrated. What else is could it be?”

“I don’t know.”

“He seems alright otherwise. He’s a bit warm, but that’s just from the heat. No fever, no irregularities in the heart, blood pressure is fine, no wounds that I can see.” Radagast reported.

The veterinarian picked a small flashlight from his pocket. He clicked it on, gently opened both of Bard’s eyelids and shined the light in. His eyelids fell right back shut when Radagast was done with him. Bard hadn’t moved at all with all the commotion going on; the noises, nor the being shifted about and poked stirred him.

If it wasn’t for the subtle rising and falling of his chest and the light color in his face, Thranduil would believe him to be dead. He couldn’t recall Bard ever looking utterly lifeless as he slept. It disturbed him to the core that someone who radiated energy at every moment could be reduced to this static comatose so easily and quickly.

A warm, vibrant flame had been snuffed out.

Anxiety hung on his stomach as death invaded his mind. He thought of his wife. He thought of how simply life can be extinguished without warning. He thought of the ongoing curse that was plaguing Bard in every passing second.

“Eyes look normal,” Radagast said and gave a woeful sigh. “Poor, poor soul.”

“Perhaps we should try to wake him.” Gandalf suggested and Radagast nodded. “Let’s have some cold water, a towel, and something with a potent scent.”

The Greenleafs simultaneously sped to the kitchen and hurried back with what Gandalf requested. Gandalf first waved the candle beneath Bard’s nose.

He remained unmoved.

Gandalf then splashed water on his resting face as delicately as he could.

Everyone sucked in a gasp of relief as the water shocked the brunette awake. His features twisted, he coughed, and Gandalf helped him sit up.

“Slowly now,” he spoke gently and pat the towel on Bard’s face. “You’re alright.”

Bard took the towel and dried himself. He sat quiet and still, a stunned and empty gaze set on his lap. All eyes were on him.

“Bard?” Radagast prompted softly.

“Ah…I feel strange.” Bard said and rubbed his temples.

“You lost consciousness.” Gandalf said.

Bard blinked with astonishment.

“I did?”

“Yes, indeed. You aren’t hurt from what we can tell. You’re in good company now, and we’re all very happy to see you awake.”

Bard looked worn and weary, but as his gaze floated upward and touched Thranduil’s figure, he transformed. His ears perked straight up. He sprang to his feet with miraculous strength, shocking everyone who had just seen him as a near statue. He put his hands over his heart and stared intensely at Thranduil, rousing a deep blush from the both of them.

Bard hopped nimbly over the couch and plowed straight into Thranduil’s chest. As soon as Bard crashed into him, the two squeezed each other tight and found their footing.

A few silent moments passed. Thranduil could feel that Bard’s body was still incredibly tense, hugging him with all he had.

“Everything is alright now.” He whispered and rubbed the nape of Bard’s neck with his thumb.

“Your voice,” Bard spoke. He brushed his nose against Thranduil’s jaw, felt his arms, and his hair. “Your smell, your shape, your hair…when I woke and saw only Gandalf and Radagast, I thought I had dreamt all of our time together…but you _are_ real.”

He jerked out of Thranduil’s embrace, much to the blonde’s protest, and latched onto Legolas.

“Legolas too!” Bard cheered.

Thranduil smiled at seeing them glow happily as they held on to each other, but his nausea didn’t go away. In fact, it seemed to get worse upon looking at them.

 

After the reunion, Bard was demanded to sit, rest, drink, and have something light to eat by all of his care takers. Bard was regaining color and personality. He wasn’t back to being himself one hundred percent yet, but that was to be expected.

Gandalf and Radagast stayed for dinner. The elder men, Bard, and Legolas all kept in lively conversation. They mostly asked how Bard liked his new “home” and what they had been up to, so Bard and Legolas were eagerly answered that they all loved living with each other, despite how hectic it could get at times. Legolas took the lead on explaining their plan to find Bard’s children and to relieve him of his curse. Thranduil, keeping a constant hawk-like watch on him, noticed right away how quiet Bard had become on the topic.

He could be overanalyzing. Bard could just be tired.

But Thranduil’s gut told him otherwise, and he wasn’t about to doubt his instincts again.

Something wasn’t right – not just with Bard, but with himself.

 

Legolas, while talking about their excursion that day, had left out the part about the extent of the shady encounter they had and the gun flashing Thranduil had done which Thranduil was thankful for. He didn’t want Bard or Gandalf to know, but particularly Gandalf. Part of Thranduil feared that Gandalf would take it the wrong way and then take Bard away.

When asked what would come next for their quest, Bard piped up.

“I think I’d like to just rest for a day. Just in case.” He said, making eye contact with Legolas. The young blonde held his hand.

“Of course, Bard. Whatever you need.”

“We’d be happy to help out whenever we can with anything you need,” Radagast offered.

Gandalf nodded and added “Though we are busy trying to help other furry friends, we will always have time for our Bard.”

 

Once they left, Legolas insisted on filling a relaxing bath for Bard. Thranduil was left in the kitchen. He cleaned, scrubbing furiously at the dishes.

 “Dad,” Legolas spoke, startling Thranduil.

“I thought you were upstairs?”

“I was. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Why don’t you sit? I’ll finish the dishes.”

“I’m not quite ready to sit.”

“There’s nothing we can do at the moment other than that. I think we all need a small break.”

“Parents don’t get breaks, Legolas. It’s never been that way.”

“Is something wrong?”

“ _Of course_ something is wrong,” Thranduil said through gritting teeth. “What happened today us something, and that something is that danger is not far from home for any of us now. I am not taking this lightly and neither should you. This isn’t some magical, fun mystery. This is real life darkness at work that needs to be taken seriously and not treated so nonchalantly.”

“I’m just trying to keep spirits higher than the ground,” Legolas defended. “Bard could use some positive thinking.”

“Sometimes ignoring the problem isn’t the answer.”

“And neither is pulling a gun on someone, you know.”

Thranduil tensed immediately, his expression with light scorn as he set his sight upon his son.

“Is that why you take a sour tone with me?”

“Yes.”

“I tried to talk our way out of there, but they were not going to let us leave and that was evident. It was either I made the first move or they did, and if they did we would have been vastly outnumbered. If I had not done what I did, how do you think that scenario would have ended? Don’t be foolish, Legolas.”

“I’m not!” he argued back with fire. “I’m being careful; I think that what you did was too risky. We don’t know if they had weapons, but if-”

“ _Exactly_ , we _didn’t know_.”

“You completely changed the whole environment when you did that, dad! You could have set them off and they-”

”I took control with what I did. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t see it necessary. It was a chance I took, but it was the best way I could see us getting out of there fast and alive. When life is involved, _your_ life, I’m not going to mess around!”

“But what if next time we’re outnumbered and you did something like that and they all fired on you? You-”

“That could have happened today, but even if they did and I didn’t draw they still could have, and very well would have, let loose.”

“Stop cutting me off, I’m just trying to give my say.”

“Because you’re not thinking rationally. You’re not thinking _at all._ ”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t want your involvement in this anymore. That’s the end of this conversation.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“I _do_!” Thranduil ripped out. “ _I_ am your parent and you live in this house with me, so as far as your safety is concerned _I_ make the rules and that’s the final word!”

 _Crack_. The dish in his hands split right in half and he grunted, throwing it into the sink.

“Dad-”

“No more of this, Legolas.”

“You don’t get to stifle me just because you’re upset! I’m upset too! You’re not the only one who’s ever lost someone! You’re not the only one who worries about losing more!” Legolas shouted over him and Thranduil’s body stiffened. His son’s sudden, out of character outburst hit him hard like an angry wave.

The younger one huffed loudly and heavily, his irritation vocalizing without proper words. He crossly wiped a thin line of tears from his eyes before they could spill onto his face. In his next breath, he was back on his father with a heated tongue.

“You need to listen to me. I’m not a helpless child who knows nothing, and you can’t treat me like one when we’ve experienced the same things and we’re going to still, no matter what you say. I’m going to be by you as an equal, a team all made up of people of equal value and importance both in their words and their lives. You have to think about yourself and not just about me. If you do this on your terms you’ll get yourself killed.”

With another weighted exhale, one calmer, Legolas started off down the hall.

“Leaf,” Thranduil begged, and Legolas stopped, relieving the older ever so slightly. He wasn’t so upset that he would storm away and neglect his attempts, which was comforting. Legolas wasn’t such a cold type, unlike his father. Thank goodness. If Legolas were to ever be icy, it would be the end of all things. Legolas was his life, his light, and he had scorned him without even knowing. His heart ached deep with guilt. “You must understand why…I don’t have just you to protect anymore, and you alone are enough to make me go to the ends of the Earth. I need to be able to handle two people.”

“You’re afraid that you can’t.”

“I _can_ and I _will_.”

“You don’t have to do this on your own.  Neither of us can afford to lose each other. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

The father initiated the embrace, warmth in their hearts and strength in their arms as they both held each other dearly. Thranduil held Legolas’ head, stroking silken hairs and pressing his cheek against them. There was a floral scent upon him that reminded him greatly of his wife. _This_ was the embodiment of _home_. It was all he needed, and it was something he would never trade for anything else in all the wide world.

“I don’t know what I would do without _you_. I'm sorry that I put you in that position.” Thranduil spoke softly.

“I love you,” said Legolas, his voice muffled by weak cries rising in his throat and his father’s shoulder.

“And I you. _So_ _much_.”

Thranduil left a kiss on Legolas’ head and the two took their time separating.

 

After a long time of staring mindlessly at emails, he noticed that it had gotten late. He was surprised that Bard hadn’t come to his office, but Thranduil figured he must have been so tired that he went to bed on his own.

When he went to his bedroom and found it empty and untouched, he went to Legolas’ room.

Sound asleep, and only one. Thranduil smiled and took Legolas’ headphones off his head, closed the book on his lap, covered him, and turned off the light.

Once back in the hall, he saw the bathroom door was still closed. He approached and knocked on the door.

No answer.

“Bard?” he called.

He waited, but no reply came.

He turned the handle.

 _Locked_.

He jiggled the handle with such a panicked vigor that he broke it clean off. The second thing he had broken that day.

He threw himself against the door once, shaking it and sending pain pulsing through his arm and shoulder. He slammed his body into it a second time, and a hinge came undone. One last try and the door flew open and he stumbled in.

The tub was full. The window was open. Bard was gone.


End file.
